


A Bad, Bad Man

by jujitsuelf



Category: The Losers (2010), The Losers (Comic), The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Pre-Losers AU, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujitsuelf/pseuds/jujitsuelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for - The Losers, Cougar, In another life he could have been a bad, bad man</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bad, Bad Man

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer – All publicly recognizable characters, settings etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended
> 
> ***
> 
> Prompt left by Lady Janelly at fic_promptly
> 
> I know this is probably wildly inaccurate and apologize in advance for that. Just what the US Army would be doing taking down crime syndicates, I really don't know, but it fitted the story so I ran with it! I hope nobody minds me playing a little fast and loose with younger Clay.

It wasn’t as though Cougar had planned to get involved in organized crime but with a father dealing drugs, a mother running multiple brothels and two brothers who were basically mercenaries for hire, young Carlos didn’t have a great start in life.

By the time he was eighteen, he had a rap sheet longer than most people’s legs and quite a few very bad people were starting to knock at his door when they wanted things done which turned the stomachs of other lowlifes. Cougar didn’t exactly hate his life but he knew it was only a matter of time before something went wrong and he had to face up to all the things he’d done.

Unfortunately, as in the Old West, it was still a fact of life that no matter how good a man was with a gun, there was always someone faster and better. And thus it was that Cougar found himself on his knees in front of a rival crime lord, his bloodied hands bound behind his back and a pistol grinding painfully into his temple.

“You honestly thought you could kill my nephew and just walk?” the older man said, spittle flying out to land on Cougar’s cheek. “You’re a piece of shit, just like your father. I’ll cut you up and deliver your corpse back to him, as a little message, you know? Maybe that’ll make him think before he orders any more of my family killed.”

“Get on with it,” Cougar said, only half-faking the weariness in his voice. His jaw was throbbing where he’d been punched and he suspected a rib or two might be cracked, judging by how much it hurt to breathe. “Spare me the monologue, I really don’t have time for it. My mother’s expecting me for dinner tonight and I’d hate to be late. I’ll already have to go grab a shower before I see her, she’ll flip a shit if I show up like this.”

The brother of the young man Cougar had shot earlier that day grabbed at his long ponytail and jerked Cougar’s head back. The muzzle of the gun vanished from his temple but it was replaced by a slim, cold blade against his throat.

“You’re not gonna see your Mama again, you little pissant.”

Cougar looked up at him, careful not to show any fear although his heart was thundering in his chest. “Fuck you.”

It wasn’t an especially clever thing to say and was a far cry from his usual eloquence but it summed up Cougar’s feelings about the turn his day had taken pretty well. He tried twisting his hands behind his back again, shit, the knots were working themselves tighter. Blood slicked his wrists as the cord bit into his skin. Mierda. He pulled forward a tiny amount, but the bastard holding his hair just tightened his grip. The older boss-man laughed unpleasantly, watching Cougar’s every move.

“Can’t think of a way out of this one, can you, you little snake?”

“Gimme a minute,” Cougar said, as calmly as he could. “I’m just regrouping.”

Boss-man laughed again, nudging the men next to him into sycophantic guffaws. Fear worried at Cougar’s stomach, this really wasn’t going well. He hissed as the knife sliced through a couple of layers of skin.

“I hope my brother kicks your ass all the way to hell,” the guy holding his hair muttered into his ear. “And I hope the Devil’s waiting for you.”

A witty retort died on Cougar’s lips as the blade cut deeper and he felt a warm rush of blood begin to trickle down his neck. He was just beginning to wonder whether he should have spent more time in church when all hell seemed to be let loose.

The doors of the warehouse he’d been dragged to burst open, people yelled and guns barked in sharp, precise bursts. The men around him began to fall, clutching at their legs or shoulders. Even in the chaos, Cougar spared a thought to admire the shooting.

The man holding him swore and staggered back as he was hit, as his grip loosened, Cougar tore himself free and clambered to his feet. The second he was vertical, a thumping tackle bore him straight back to the floor again. With his hands tied behind him, he had no chance to break his fall and only just avoided landing on his nose.

“Fuck!”

“Shut up if you wanna live, kid.” The deep voice which growled in his ear was accompanied by yet another pistol against the back of his head.

“Is this ‘threaten to shoot Cougar’ day and nobody told me?” Cougar cried indignantly, his fear vanishing as he recognized the clipped tones of military men around him.

“You talk any more and I’ll shoot you just for shits and giggles,” the soldier said, hauling him to his feet.

Cougar looked around him, all the men of the rival gang were either on the floor bleeding or being handcuffed and marched out of the warehouse. “I’m not one of them,” he said, trying to look scared and humble. “They just grabbed me off the street, wanted me to be a drug mule. I’m nobody.”

“Yeah, right,” the soldier smirked, pulling him along by his bound hands. “Tell it to my commanding officer, maybe he’ll believe you. I sure as hell don’t.”

“Let me go!” Cougar protested. “I’m not one of them.”

“Whatever.” The soldier shoved him through the warehouse door and into a waiting Humvee.

****

Five hours of interrogation later, Cougar was beyond exhausted and wishing the other gang had just shot him when they caught him. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the harsh-faced officer across the stainless steel table. They’d been there together for so long, he was starting to feel nostalgic for the soldier who’d tackled him. At least he’d seemed like a decent enough guy.

Cougar sighed, “Fine, yes, I admit I’m not exactly an angel but I’m in no way connected to that gang you took apart.”

“You’re Cougar Alvarez?”

“Yes.”

“Your family runs over a quarter of the organized crime this side of the Mexican border.”

Cougar shrugged. “Well, you gotta do something, right? Papa didn’t much like a nine to five job.”

“Listen to me, kid,” the officer leaned closer. “You don’t seem to understand how much shit you’re in. I can hand you over to the FBI and they’ll make you vanish forever. You won’t see daylight till you’re an old man, do you understand that?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Cougar muttered grudgingly. “So what?”

“So join the fuckin’ army,” the officer spat. “The list of kills you’ve got to your name are more impressive than most spec ops snipers I’ve known. Save your own life and do something worthwhile.”

Cougar snorted. “God, you must be down on your recruitment quota if you’re asking me to enlist.”

The man stood and picked up his hat. “Your choice. Jail for a very, very long time or the army. Either way, you’re not going back to your family for a while, so I hope you kissed your mother goodbye this morning.”

The door clanged shut behind him, leaving Cougar alone. He stared at his fingers. One nail was torn halfway off and it throbbed like hell.

Him, join the army? He snorted. Yeah, right. Although, it might be interesting to see how far a kid from the very wrong side of the tracks could go. It wasn’t as though he had any fantastic prospects where he was. Going to jail wasn’t on his to-do list and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out a way to get out of this mess scot-free.

In his typical straight to the point way, he made his decision. “Fine!” he yelled at the closed door. “I’ll do it.”

The soldier who came to escort him to formally enlist was the same one who’d caught him. He smirked at Cougar. “Got to you, did they?”

Cougar grimaced. “Either this or jail and I didn’t feel like being someone’s bitch for the next thirty years.”

“Oh, you’ll probably end up as someone’s bitch here,” the soldier assured him cheerfully. “Maybe you’ll be mine.”

“Fuck you,” Cougar said with a wolfish grin.

The soldier laughed. “I’m Clay, you’re Cougar, right?”

Cougar nodded.

“See you around, Cougar,” Clay smiled, slapping him on the shoulder. “If you survive, that is.”

“I’ll survive,” Cougar assured him. “And I’ll be spec ops before you know it.”

“Not unless you learn not to talk so much,” Clay replied. “My one piece of advice to you. Shut the hell up and listen.”

****

Cougar did shut the hell up, so much so that people began to question whether he ever spoke at all. He listened hard and made it through to Spec Ops before anyone expected him to. When he was assigned to his team, his new commanding officer smirked at him.

“Made it did you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Anyone’s bitch yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Good to see you again, Cougar.”

“You, too, Clay.”


End file.
